


All American Dream

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: House of 1000 Corpses (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: While they wait for their latest toys to regain consciousness, Baby and Otis have some fun of a different sort.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song [Demon Speeding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SSDZHZHYvM) by Rob Zombie.

Otis' room smells like blood. 

This isn't surprising; his room _always_ smells like a mixture of blood and spilled booze and burned flesh. But the blood scent is particularly strong today, nearly overpowering. It's coming from the other side of the room, in the area Otis uses as his experiment lab. Earlier in the evening, they'd come across two girls, college students from out of state, hitchhiking and brought them back to the house for dinner. Baby had gone with Rufus afterwards to pick up some liquor and when they'd come back, Otis had gotten his hands on the girls. 

They're both unconscious now, although Baby doesn't think the one on the left is long for this world. Her whole front, chin to stomach, is drenched in blood, and her head is slumped towards her chest. Every so often, she takes a great, wheezing gulp of breath, struggling valiantly to cling to life. Baby doesn't think she'll get a chance to play with her but thankfully the other girl, while unconscious, is still in great shape, still has long limbs to be carved up (or off). 

Baby takes a good deep breath of the room's air, sighing happily on the exhale. 

Nothing like the smell of home. 

The wind clatters against the side of the house, and drafts keep sneaking into the room through the multiple holes in the ceiling. The cold has Baby's nipples peaked and she shudders joyfully, palming at one bare breast with the hand that isn't wrapped around a bottle of honey-sweet whiskey. 

"You gonna do something, or you just gonna keep staring at me?" she asks, taking a swig from the bottle and raising an eyebrow at Otis. He's been kneeling between her legs for lord knows how long, calloused and cracked hands resting on her thighs, just below the hem of her cut-off shorts. 

"I'll do something when I damn well want to," he mutters, although there's no real heat behind his words. He leans forward and snatches the bottle away before she can bring it back to her lips. A few stray droplets fall away from the mouth of the bottle and scatter across her torso. When she reaches down to scoop one up with the tip of her finger, Otis swats her hand away, knocking it to the mattress. 

"I'll deal with those." 

"Well, better deal with them quick," Baby replies, folding her arms under her head and arching her back away from the mattress, pressing her breasts into the air, "or I'm gonna be all sticky." Otis groans and Baby giggles, knocking her knees against his hips in an attempt to spur him into action. 

It works. He takes one last swig from the bottle before dropping it over the edge of the bed, where it lands with a thunk rather than a shattering of glass. He wraps both hands around her hips, yanks her down the sagging mattress, and drops his mouth to her ribs, tongue scraping up a wayward drop of whisky. Goosebumps spring up along her chest and she twists her hands hard into his stringy hair, trying to get him to move just a little higher. 

Instead, he moves lower, which is also an acceptable action. 

Once his mouth reaches the waist of her shorts, he pulls back again, and Baby opens her eyes, leans up on her elbows so that she can ask exactly what the fuck he's doing. Before she can part her lips, Otis leans over the edge of the bed and comes back with a buck knife. The six inch blade gleams under the lights, the sharp metal still shiny and untested on anyone. 

"That new?" she asks, fingers itching to wrap around the black grip. Otis nods and taps the flat of the blade against her inner thigh. 

"Brand new and all for you," he replies, inching the knife higher, until it meets the hem of her shorts. With a quick flick of his fingers, the business edge of the knife slides into her shorts, easily splitting the distressed denim. He does the same thing on the other side, nicking the skin slightly. Baby barely feels the cut, but she feels the blood gently coursing down the inside of her leg. Otis tears the tattered shorts away, tosses them in the direction of the girls, and swipes his thumb up the trail of blood to the source. 

"Want a taste?" 

"Obviously," Baby says, leaning up, wrapping her fingers around Otis' wrist, and tugging his hand down to her mouth. Her blood is still warm around his thumb, and she makes sure she gets every last drop of it off, carefully swirling her tongue. 

The sound Otis makes is almost a growl, and she nips at the tip of his thumb as she pulls away.

"You ain't stopping there, are you?" she asks, opening her legs a little wider. 

"Fuck no," Otis replies and, picking up the knife again, he presses the flat of the blade against the front of her panties. The cold metal is a jolt against where she's burning up and wet, and she arches into it, biting at her lip. 

Before Otis can go any further, a muffled scream splits through the air. Baby glances over at the other side of the room and grins. Their other captive has woken up. Her eyes are huge, like a frightened animal, and her head is swiveling rapidly back and forth, taking in the sights of the room. Eventually, her gaze locks with Baby's, and she starts screaming even louder, the sound masked by the layers of duct tape strapped across her mouth. 

"Wasn't expectin' her to wake so soon," Otis says. He takes the knife away from between Baby's legs, but before he can fully move off the bed, Baby shoots upright and grabs a fistful of his hair. 

"You ain't going anywhere until you finish me off," she orders, tugging him back towards her. "She can wait. She can _watch._ " That brings a twinkle to Otis' eye (and makes the girl scream again.) He trails the tip of the knife down Baby's thigh, to the lacy edge of her underwear, leaving behind a long red scratch that promises to swell with blood with just a little provocation. 

"Alright," he says, hooking the knife into the leg hole, sliding it up to the elastic waistband, and tugging, easily cutting her panties into shreds. He throws them in the same direction of her wrecked shorts and leans over her, knife point teasing along the line of her hips. 

"Let's give her a show then."

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
